The Benefits of Cracked Ribs
by anomaly16
Summary: He had cracked, broken, and dislocated plenty of ribs in the past and in the big picture, this was one of the more painful occurrences, but also one of the more rewarding. Clint gets a little ornery with a few unexpected consequences and perks...All Avengers mentioned.


**Warnings**: none. Pure fluff that popped into my head when I was at work (always at the most convenient times, of course), one-shot

**Author's Note**: movie-verse, operate under the idea that they all live in Stark/Avenger tower together. Post Avengers movie time wise.

**Disclaimer: **I sadly do not own Avengers or any of the characters involved on the show. :[

**The Benefits of Cracked Ribs**

He had cracked, broken, and dislocated plenty of ribs in the past and in the big picture, this was one of the more painful occurrences, but also one of the more rewarding. Stark had pissed him off for the umpteenth time that day so when he found Tony passed out on the couch next to a sleeping Thor he couldn't help himself.

He quietly filled a bowl with warm water, ignoring the disapproving look from Natasha, and crept over to the genius and slipped the bowl under his left hand. A wet spot grew on his pants and Clint watched gleefully as Tony's face went from peaceful to confused to red to angry within seconds.

"What the hell?" Tony snapped. He kicked out instinctively, knocking the bowl to the ground and Clint onto a snoozing Thor. Clint's elbow collided with Thor's gut and the god let out a started grunt before rapidly extending mjolnir into the unexpected intruder.

Clint grunted as the blow collided with his rib cage and he heard the distinctive crack, knocking him back onto the floor, gasping for breath.

Thor was now standing, at attention, "where is the attack?" he shouted, still disoriented.

Tony was laughing hysterically while Clint lay on the floor still letting the pain subside.

"Clint," Thor noticed, "who has attacked you?" he demanded.

"You," Clint groaned.

Thor looked between Tony and Clint, a frown of confusion on his face.

Natasha decided to chime in, "Clint played a prank on Tony, Tony knocked him into you, you reacted with fight and hammered him in the ribs," she explained, sauntering over to her fallen partner.

Thor looked genuinely concerned, "my friend, I am sorry I knew not that it was you, otherwise I would have assuredly not attacked," he apologized. He hurried to Clint's side, "are you hurt?" he asked.

"Not bad," Clint hedged, still not trusting movement.

Natasha peered over Thor's shoulder, studying Clint carefully. "You broke a rib or two, didn't you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Feels like it," he replied, still gulping in air.

Tony was still laughing on the couch, though it'd been reduced to occasional fits of giggles. He stood up, "serves you right," he retorted. He walked up behind Thor and clasped his back. "I should start keeping you with me at all times," he joked.

Thor bit his lip, "I did not intend to hurt-" he began, clearly upset by he fact he had hurt his friend.

"Don't worry about it," Clint interrupted. "Not your fault I landed on you."

Natasha returned with a bag of ice and dropped it on his chest, which pushed a pained groan out of Clint.

The racket had drawn the attention of Bruce and Steve, who had sauntered into the living room. Steve eyed the situation, "Is that urine?" he asked Tony, directing his gaze to Tony's crotch.

Tony suddenly remembered and flushed, "erm, I'll be right back," he left to change.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, joining the circle around Clint. He bent down, noticing the ice placement. "Ribs?" he asked.

Clint nodded, "Thor here beat me up," he joked wryly; he coughed and could taste iron.

"I swear it was unintentional," Thor quickly defended to Bruce, panicked.

"Nah, Tony pushed me into him," Clint replied.

Steve examined the scene, "hand in warm water trick?" he asked. "Tony pushed you, you startled Thor, and Thor reacted?" he guessed.

"On the head," Natasha replied disapprovingly.

"What is this warm water prank?" Thor asked.

"If one is asleep and you put his hand in warm water he'll pee himself," Clint explained, "a human reaction," he clarified.

Thor thought about the past ten minutes events, "ah," he finally said. "I see why Tony would be upset."

Clint smiled, "yeah, he deserved it," he muttered, still trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah, I object to that," Tony said returning in new clothes, "serves you right." he added pointedly, his gaze directed at Clint's ribs.

Clint ignored him and slowly stood up, his breath catching, and he grimaced.

"Lift your shirt," Bruce instructed.

Clint pulled his shirt up and Natasha whistled. When he looked down he saw why-his entire right side was a dark shade of purple. "That was fast," he noted.

"That's not normal. Come on, I want an X-ray," Bruce said.

...

"What's the verdict?" Clint asked, studying Banner who was studying his X-ray.

"You have 3 cracked ribs, but it's more the bruised lung I'm worried about," he turned to frown at Clint, noting the labored breathing. "How's the breathing? Still with the shortness of breath?" he asked.

Clint offered a small shrug, "been worse," he said.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, "how bad?" he pushed.

"Not great," Clint admitted. "I think I'm coughing up some blood too…I can taste iron."

Bruce didn't even try to hide his concern.

"But like I said, I've had worse," Clint drew in a shallow breath as a test. "It'll be fine in a few weeks," he muttered.

"I want someone to stay with you tonight," Bruce finally said. "Your symptoms could get worse over the next 24 hours, given your current symptoms I wouldn't be surprised if they did." He handed Clint a monitor bracelet. "Wear this so I can track your vitals."

"Doc," Clint began to protest.

"It's not a request," Bruce cut in shortly.

Clint sighed but slipped the bracelet on.

"I'm sure Natasha would stay with you tonight," Bruce said.

"Don't need a babysitter," he protested softly.

Bruce sighed, "fine. But I'll be checking on you periodically with the bracelet," he warned.

"Fine," Clint conceded. He stood gingerly and headed to his room, "thanks," he added sincerely.

Bruce nodded, "next time get Tony when Thor's not around." he smiled.

Clint chuckled then immediately grimaced, "I've learned my lesson," he promised.

He entered his room to find Natasha flipping through a magazine on his bed. "Bruce put you up to this?" he asked wearily.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "no. I was concerned," she replied. She directed her gaze to his rib cage, expecting an answer.

"3 cracked ribs, bruised lung," he said, carefully shedding his shoes and changing into shorts.

"Then I'll stay," she said simply, shedding her own outwear.

"Nat-" he began to protest.

"It'll get worse," she interrupted bluntly. "It always does with you so I'm staying," she said firmly. She lay down on the left side of the bed knowing Clint preferred the right. She rolled onto her side and shut her eyes.

Clint smiled, end of discussion. Nat was staying. He flicked off the light and eased down into a supine position and let out a sigh of relief. He heard a rattle right before a small bottle hit him square in the head. "Take 3," Nat instructed, not even bothering to turn over. "Don't die on me tonight, Barton," she warned.

Clint smiled but didn't say anything, instead he took the 3 Advil and closed his eyes.

…

At 2 in the morning Natasha opened her eyes, still lying perfectly still. Something wasn't right. She rolled over slowly to gaze at her partner and in the moonlight, could tell he was clammy with even shallower breaths than before. She flicked on the light and noticed he was sporting a slightly blue hue.

"Jarvis, get Bruce to Clint's room now," she ordered.

"He's on his way already, ma'am," Jarvis replied. "Sir Barton's monitor alerted him 5 minutes ago."

Nat nodded. She retrieved a cool washcloth from the bathroom and began to blot his forehead and neck. He groaned and tried to push her away weakly.

"Stop," she said firmly and he did, never opening his eyes.

The door opened and Bruce entered with a cartful of supplies. "Is he clammy?" he demanded. "Cold?"

Natasha nodded, "breathing is shallower as well," she informed.

Bruce pulled a machine off the cart and began to set it up. He slapped a mask over Clint's face and turned it on, quickly adjusting the levels before sitting back. Clint tried to protest but Bruce placed a hand on Clint's holding him back, "you've developed cyanosis-you aren't getting enough oxygen so you need the mask." he said firmly. Bruce waited until Clint's skin color returned to normal and the clamminess dissipated. He gazed over at Natasha, "he'll be fine...tomorrow I'll switch him to a nasal cannula. You can sleep," he added.

Nat nodded in thanks and Bruce left.

Natasha turned off the light and lay back down, this time on her side so she was facing Clint. But she didn't close her eyes; instead she watched his chest rise and fall, keeping an eye on him to make sure he remained stable. Not that she didn't trust Bruce, but that Clint was her partner and she would be the one to protect him.

…

Morning came and Clint seemed to be doing better, the extra oxygen doing him good. He opened his eyes to find Natasha staring at him intently. He pulled the mask off, "thanks," he whispered, locking gazes with her.

She nodded curtly, "you'd do the same for me," she replied.

She got out of bed and put her clothes back on, "I don't know how alert you were last night, but the combo of broken ribs and a bruised lung impaired the amount of oxygen you were getting...cyanosis...so Banner brought this nifty machine down to combat the blueness you were sporting," she explained, taking a seat again by his side.

Clint nodded, "it helps," he admitted.

"Put it back on," Natasha instructed. "I'll get us some breakfast. Don't move, I don't want to have to kick your ass in your current state," she warned.

Clint nodded, quite sure she wasn't kidding.

Natasha left for the kitchen only to find the other avengers huddled around the table. As soon as Natasha walked in, Tony spoke up, "a little birdie told me Clint was blue last night," he said.

Natasha shot an exasperated glare at Bruce.

He threw his hands up, "it wasn't me," he said, toast crumbs falling out of his full mouth.

"No, it was Jarvis," Tony corrected. "So how is our little hawk?" he asked.

"Fine. Oxygen helped," she said, directing the last comment at Bruce.

Bruce nodded, "we'll keep him on it for a few days. Add some pain relievers and he'll be a lot more comfortable," Bruce said. "I'll be up within the hour to bring up a nasal cannula for him to use," Bruce said.

Natasha nodded her thanks and with a tray full of food left the kitchen. She was almost to the elevator when she felt someone behind her. She turned to find Thor.

"Thor," she greeted.

"Natasha-I deeply regret my having caused this." he began nervously. "And I want nothing more than to be able to take it back, but I cannot. I do not want Clint Barton to hold contempt with me for inflicting unintentional harm. Is he receiving visitors? I would like to apologize," Thor said.

Natasha's eyes softened. "He is not angry with you Thor, but you can come with me if you'd like to hear it from him."

Thor nodded, "I would like to, thank you."

Natasha jerked her head, indicating Thor should follow, then entered the elevator.  
When they arrived back at Clint's room the TV was on and he was channel surfing lazily, the oxygen mask still in place. When he saw Thor he yanked it off hastily.

Thor studied the archer, "Natasha said you were not angry with me, but I need you to know that I deeply regret my reaction and I am sorry for having injured you," he finally said.

Clint smiled, "Thor, no blame lies with you whatsoever. I am not mad or angry with you in the least. I know you didn't do it on purpose," he assured. "Stop beating yourself up over this," he added.

Thor let out a sigh, "it is difficult to do so, given your current condition," he said, "but your acceptance of my apology means a great deal to me. Thank you," he said.

"I've had worse. This is nothing...a few days R&R and I'll be good as new," he assured. Natasha set breakfast up next to Clint then sat back down on the bed gently, careful not to displace the two cups of coffee.

Thor nodded, relieved, "it relieves me to hear that. I shall let you and Natasha enjoy your breakfast. Recover quickly, my friend. Do inform me if you should need anything," he added.

"Thanks," Clint said. Thor nodded then made his exit, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Poor guy," Clint chuckled.

He received a swift swat on the arm from Natasha.

"It is poor guy," she snapped. "He's been beating himself up over having hurt you since it happened and you and Tony just think its a huge joke," she scolded.

"Nat, it _was_ a joke," he reminded.

"It was not executed well," she replied. "The only way it could've gone worse is if you'd done it to Banner and he hulked out."

Clint sighed, "you're right. I'm sorry." He held up his hands in surrender.

Bruce chose that moment to knock and enter Clint's room, portable oxygen in tow.  
"I think this will be easier to cart around than the mask," he said, wheeling the tank inside. He flipped it on and handed Clint the cannula. "See if that helps."

Clint discarded the mask and slipped the cannula on. He drew in a few cautious breaths, "it works, thanks doc."

Bruce nodded, "I know it's an eyesore but it'd really help if you keep it on," he said. "At least for a few days," he added.

Clint nodded. "Don't think I'll be doing much anyhow," he said.

"I'll make sure he keeps it on," Natasha promised.

Bruce nodded in thanks, "I'll check on you tomorrow," and with that he made his exit.

The two SHIELD agents sat in silence for a while after Bruce left, each enjoying their breakfast. Once done Natasha set the tray aside then sat back down on the bed, reaching over Clint to grab the remote.

He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Like you'll actually take it easy if I leave," she scoffed.

Clint just smiled then snatched the remote out of her hand, "I at least get to choose."

He flipped through the channels before finally settling on a movie.

Natasha groaned. "We've seen this a hundred times," she grumbled.

"Classics never get old," Clint reminded. "Besides, I know you love the trilogy," he added.

"Yeah. Wouldn't hurt to branch out every now and then. We both have these movies memorized. We should be making Steve watch them. He'd like Star Wars," she countered. Nevertheless, she snuggled down into the pillow and scooched over until her right shoulder was resting against Clint's left.

...

It was several days later and Clint, still primarily on bed rest, was growing restless, and bored. A bored archer was never a good idea. Natasha came back into his room carrying a tray filled with food and set it on the bed. She climbed back onto what she'd claimed as her side and began to eat her lunch. Clint studied his partner, the level of comfort she was displaying and the ambivalence she was showing given the fact he was still naked, having just finished his shower. "It'll get cold if you don't eat soon," she warned between bites.

Clint wrapped the towel around his waist and was about to sit down when Nat interrupted. "Pants," she glanced up. "Don't give me that look, Barton. I don't want to see your family jewels while I'm trying to enjoy my lunch," she said calmly.

Clint chuckled and pulled on a pair of athletic shorts before sitting down.

He had cracked, broken, and dislocated plenty of ribs in the past and in the big picture, this was one of the more painful occurrences, but now as he thought about it, it was well worth it. He'd managed to get Tony back and as a bonus, Nat had taken it upon herself to nurse him back to health. They so rarely had any downtime to relax with one another; it usually took someone getting hurt for them to truly relax. He chuckled at how things had turned out.

Nat glanced over, "what was that for?" she asked.

Clint glanced over and smiled knowingly, then shrugged it off, "just thinking about the benefits of cracked ribs," he reached over and grabbed one of her strawberries and popped it into his mouth.

"Hey!" she protested, but didn't make a move to retaliate.

Clint grinned; it was decided, he should crack ribs more often.


End file.
